The South Ain't Just Fer Rednecks
by X-Hayze-chan-X
Summary: One-shot. US/UK lemon for a fic exchange. "One day, while visiting the south, America got an idea."


**A/N: This was written for a fic exchange (my first ever!) between me and Tamer Lorika. I told myself I wasn't allowed to read what she wrote (which I am so excited to read!) until I posted hers, so here! **

**This is my first ever lemon, and I'm really excited, so please be gentle... **

**Warnings: My first time writing super smutty smut... Well, I tried at least... It's a mother-flippin' yaoi lemon for God's sakes! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, the south, Pokerface (aside from a file on my computer), or Lady Gaga. And really, the first is the only one I actually want. **

**I was lazy typing up the accent, but it's there unless I say he switched out of it. I hope you like it~!! **

One day, while visiting the south, America got an idea. And it didn't even involve building giant heroes.

The idea just came to him; it was so wonderful he couldn't resist. And when a hero has an awesome idea, he doesn't just let it go. He puts it into action. Immediately.

So the first thing he did was book the nearest flight to England. He had some business to take care of.

*~*~*

England was sitting in the living room, sipping tea and reading the paper, feeling completely serene and at peace…

Until he heard a series of loud, rapid knocks pounding at his door.

He sighed. His afternoon was now totally ruined; there was only one person in the whole world that knocked like that. That is, if he even bothered to knock at all.

Heaving another sigh, England finished his tea quickly, and then got up to save his poor door.

As soon as he opened it, he instantly regretted it. There was Alfred, grinning like a madman. It was different from his normal grin. This was one to be feared. It meant he had something going on in that mind of his, something that would no doubt annoy England past breaking point.

And this was confirmed as soon as America opened his mouth and uttered those fateful first few words.

"Howdy, Iggy!"

That's right. America's great plan.

A southern accent.

While he was in the south, he realized that everyone, including himself, was speaking with that infamous southern accent made famous by Hollywood. Then a thought appeared in his head. _God… If England thinks I'm butchering his precious language when I talk normally, how pissed would he be if I started talking to him like this? _

And from this was born America's plan.

Now, here he was, standing in England's house, talking away in that thick southern accent of his about God knows what. England wasn't really paying attention.

Because for some reason, the way America was speaking, which should have annoyed the fuck out of him, was… _exciting_ him. Exciting him in a way that both horrified and perplexed the elder Nation.

"An' then… Iggy? Hey, Iggy, are ya listenin'?"

"O-oh God…" England murmured, bringing his hands up to his mouth in shock and horror.

America's face fell. Not only was he failing to annoy England, he was doing something to upset the other Nation. To make him look like that… God, why was he so utterly irresistable? America just wanted to–

America blinked and shook his head rapidly. No, he did not just think that about England. No.

And that's how they stood, one shocked and one utterly horrified. England realized that if America kept talking like that, then England would jump him.

Then, finally, America broke the silence. "Ain'tchya gonna say somethin'? 'Cuz–"

That was about the time that England snapped. He lunged at America, meshing their lips together quickly, wrapping his arms around the taller man. America's eyes widened in surprise. He was frozen like that. Why was England kissing him? Why did he like it so much?

Soon, he just let his instincts take over (or, more accurately, his overwhelming desire to fuck England) and kissed back with a passionate force. Their tongues lashed out to meet each other's, and the two battled for dominance. Somehow, they ended up lying on the living room floor, America on top.

America pulled his head away, a glittering string of saliva holding their lips together still. He didn't know whose it was, but guessed it was probably both of theirs. The thought excited him somehow.

"I-Iggy, whut're ya doin'?" he asked.

"God, God," England moaned. "Alfred… that bloody accent…"

"Y'don't like it?" America asked.

"I… I…" England found it hard to get the words out. Especially when that damned accent of Alfred's was simultaneously annoying and arousing him.

But somehow America caught on. _Oh great,_ thought England, _let it be _now _that he decides to learn to read the atmosphere. _

"Ooohhh…" he said, smirking. "It turns ya on, does it?"

England whimpered in reply.

America thought for a second, then said, with his normal accent, "And what if I were talking like this? Would you still like me like that, or is this just some random kink?"

The words stirred something deep within England, and he realized what exactly it was that he felt for his former colony.

"B-both…" he panted, leaning up to kiss the American.

America groaned into the other's mouth when England's hand slowly and purposefully ran along his crotch. England undid America's zipper too slowly in America's opinion.

Finally, America's pants were off, as well as England's. They had lost their shirts while trying to undo each other's zippers. Their boxers were thrown to the floor next to them, and both were now completely naked.

America's mouth, England learned, wasn't only good for talking and spewing out stupid ideas. The younger Nation kissed his mouth, then the corner of his mouth, trailing kisses along his jawline, neck, collarbone, and torso, biting and licking occasionally. He dipped his tongue into England's navel, making the elder shudder. He then trailed his tongue along England's inner thigh slowly, always coming so close but never hitting the one place England needed him to go.

"A-America!" he moaned. "Ple-ase… I-I need… Ah!"

America looked up at him. "Then say you love me."

"W-what?" His mind was foggy from this overwhelming feeling, and it took a moment to process America's request (or rather demand). Once he did, he raised one large eyebrow at the younger's antics. That was seriously one of the last things he expected America to say. "Why?"

"Because… I don't want to do this and then find out that you don't really feel that way about me. I love you, England, and I want to know if this is just because you're horny or because you really feel something for me."

England fought the pleasure-induced haze, the _America_- induced haze in his mind to form a coherent response. "America, you bloody git. I can't believe that for one second you would think that I didn't love you. I always have, idiot. I love you, okay?"

America beamed.

"Now get the fuck on with it!" England snapped.

America smirked. "Shur thang," he replied, switching back into his southern accent. He dipped his head down and licked England's member slowly, wrapping his tongue around the head. America dipped his tongue into the slit and took England into his mouth, inch by inch, until he was deep-throating him.

England gasped and moaned, his hands fisted in America's hair.

"A-Alfred!" he moaned. "Ungh… S-stop…"

America looked up, puzzled. "Y'don't like it?" he asked.

"You moron, I bloody love it!" England yelled. "Just… get on with it and fuck me already!"

America blinked. England must be really horny if he was saying things like that. Oh well, a hero never denied a damsel in distress.

America stuck three of his fingers into England's mouth and England sucked and licked them, making America moan slightly, until they were thouroughly coated in saliva. He stuck a finger in and wiggled it around, making England gasp at the strange sensation. He added another finger and scissored the elder, making him gasp in pain. A third finger and tears were forming in England's eyes. He searched until he found that one spot that made England see white.

"God, Alfred," England moaned, "there…"

America hit that spot another few times before he deemed his former guardian ready. He pulled his fingers out and England released a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"You ready?" America suddenly asked in that accent of his, positioning his cock at the other man's entrance.

"G-Get on with it," England moaned.

America pushed himself in halfway and allowed England to adjust. When England nodded, he went in the rest of the way and then pulled out, only to slam back into England again. He went slowly, until England yelled, "Bloody hell, Alfred! Harder!"

America smirked. "Ah s'pose it's true whut they say," he said. "When it comes to love, if it ain't rough it ain't fun."

England didn't have the time to point out that it wasn't the best time to be quoting Lady Gaga, because America pounded into him so quickly he hadn't the time to think.

"Uhh…" he moaned. "Alfred… so full…"

His tears of pleasure turned to those of joy as the younger man thrust in and out of him, angling differently each time to hit that special spot.

Finally, he found it, and England cried out. "Ah! Alfred! There!"

England wrapped his legs around the younger man, forcing him to go deeper. With each thrust, that spot was hit, pushing the two of them so much floser to the edge. They were each crying each other's names in pure ecstasy. America kissed England's lips and England complied.

Soon, America started to pump him with the rhythym of his thrusts, bringing England closer and closer.

"A-Alfred… Can't... Gonna… AH!"

With that his vision flashed white and a white, sticky liquid shot out on both of their stomachs. His inner muscles clenched around Alfred, bringing him over the edge maybe a second later.

"Arthur! A-Ah…"

They rode out their orgasms with a few more thrusts, one more kiss. Finally, it was over. America pulled out and layed on top of England, careful not to smush the smaller man. Switching back into his normal accent, he said, "I love you, Arthur."

"I love you too, Alfred," England said, kissing his cheek.

"But I do have an idea," America continued with a devilish smirk.

"What?"

"Let's go on vacation! I hear Tennessee is really nice this time of year…"

England wasn't the only one in pain when they woke up the next morning.


End file.
